


messy

by owltwin



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Affection, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cock Rings, Dominant Skraak, Edging, Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan - Freeform, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Human Genitalia, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Skraak - Freeform, Submissive Hamid, bossy skraak, kobold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owltwin/pseuds/owltwin
Summary: In which Skraak gets tired of perfection and decides to make Hamidmessy.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Skraak
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	messy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [platoapproved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/platoapproved/gifts).



Surely there is some reason for all of the grace and comportment, the impeccable façade that Hamid presents to the world. Skraak can't imagine what that reason must be, but they also can't fathom why someone would spend so much time maintaining all of that without a good reason. It's quite nice to look at him like that, as if he's some sort of beautiful gemstone set in brass moving through the world floating on a cloud, a distant perfect thing beyond connection. An unnecessarily overdramatic comparison, probably, but one that's crossed their mind more than once when they see him. Still, they can't fathom that reason.

All of the distant comported beauty is nothing compared to how he looks stretched out on the bed, his back arched, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open, his fists clenched tight until his carefully laquered nails press tiny moon-shaped crescents into his palms. Skraak watches as a drop of sweat slides down the curve of his neck and collects with all the others that have taken the same path before, forming a little pool of sweat in the hollow behind his collarbone. Flicking their tongue out, they taste the air, press their tongue against the roof of their mouth until the scent and taste of Hamid's warm brown skin and his smooth brassy scales and his sweat and the slow melt of whatever product he'd had in his perfect hair a few hours before floods their system, makes their head spin. Lowering their hands, they slide them slowly up the length of Hamid's thighs, thick with a layer of fat over strong muscle built from all that travel, dragging the tips of their claws through the soft hair dusting them. The nail on their index finger has been ground down at the tip, made blunt and smooth and shorter than the others, and they tap it lightly against the skin under it - Hamid shudders on the bed at the feather-light contact, his legs spreading more, he makes a soft whimpering gasp that has Skraak's tongue flicking out once or twice more, beyond their control. 

Their tongue is the only part of them that isn't in control, though. The rest of their body is tightly wound, restrained, they keep themselves from hardening enough to do more than press slightly against the sensitive rim of their cloaca, an extremely tiny bump, invisible underneath the loose pants they wear. They are in control of themselves, and they are in control of Hamid. The thought of it sends their blood rushing in their ears and their tongue flicks out again to taste the air, to taste all of the molecules and chemical signals that are comprised of Hamid's body, his fluids, his desire, his pheromones. Sucking in air through their nostrils, they produce a soft hiss and lean forward, curling their hands to the side, carefully pulling his thighs further apart and running that blunted claw up the inside of one, against the painfully soft skin there, so vulnerable and sensitive. They're enjoying the shivers and soft, breathy whimpers that being touched there draws from Hamid. Slowly, they drag the claw up further, over the top of his thigh to trace the soft lines that travel from his hip to the base of his cock, nestled in thick dark hair, fascinating and alien, before tapping lightly at the brass metal ring that sits there, pressed tight against swollen skin, keeping this night from ending too soon. Above it, Hamid's cock is hard and flushed red with blood, lying against his abdomen, the swollen head of it shiny with precum that leaks onto his belly, and Skraak leans in, tongue flicking to smelltaste it, the blood and the heat of his skin and the fluid.

Hamid tilts his head back, his mouth falling open around a long, slightly broken moan at the contact, his hips pressing upward, disjointed half-sentences that weave between all the languages that he knows bubbling out of him, desperate and needy, and Skraak's tongue flicks out again as if they could taste the words.

"Beg all you like. I won't be giving you what you're asking for until you're ready for it."

"Skraak!" Hamid says, then bites off any more words, his breath coming in short, sharp pulls, his chest heaving, setting the candlelight in the room reflecting off the patches of scales on his chest and his arms. For a moment, they find themselves entranced with it, with the way Hamid's eye teeth have gotten longer, sharper, glinting in his open mouth, the way his face goes sharper because he _needs_ so badly. Needs another orgasm, another peak of pleasure without any true release because of that lovely little ring. Slipping their hands under Hamid's thighs, they lift and part them, draping the soft heat of them over their narrow shoulders and teasing that blunted claw around the rim of Hamid's entrance, feather-light touches that leave the muscle twitching. Hamid's hips jerk upward, demanding and spoiled and _privileged_ , and Skraak's tongue flicks out again as they let out a huffing hiss of laughter.

"Impatient." they chide, a gentle rebuke, eyes locked on Hamid's face as they press their claw carefully inside. It's more precise a task than it might seem to be, and far less dangerous than it looks. Skraak has done this before, knows how to angle their finger so the claw that's been carefully filed to the right bluntness and thickness won't catch on sensitive flesh, will simply glide against it, find the best spots inside. It will take an annoyingly long time to grow back, to regain that claw's sharpness, but it's more than worth it for this. For seeing Hamid like this, because of them and what they're doing to him, in complete control, body flush with the foreign and heady feeling of agency and power and emotion after spending so long locked inside their own body without feeling or choice or freedom.

Their finger slides inside so easily, because Hamid is so wet with all the oil Skraak has prepared him with, he's relaxed and ready. So ready. It isn't the first time tonight that they've slid that claw inside and quirked it upward, carefully, so carefully, to rub against whatever spot inside Hamid makes him jerk and twitch and squirm, his body arching and his breath coming out in little sobs. Skraak keeps moving, eyes narrowing and tongue flicking out to taste the chemicals of Hamid's pleasure, watches as the light catches his scales and the sweat slides down his chest toward his belly and his hips rock with a sort of desperation as he surges toward that peak again, his body shaking and tensing. It takes so much less time now, than it had the first time tonight, when Hamid had still been self-conscious and tense, only a minute of teasing until the halfling dragon's body is shaking hard and he's letting out a choked sob of pleasure and his body clenches tight around Skraak's claw and their finger and his cock jumps hard against his belly, desperate for full release but completely unable. It lasts a few moments and then subsides slowly, Hamid's body collapsing back into the bed as he heaves and pants and Skraak can see that there are tears in his eyes, that his breath is coming in desperate sobs, that he's gasping and shaking and his cheeks are flushed red. They can see that he's getting close to his limit.

Pulling their finger free of his body, they absently wipe it off on the blanket and slip Hamid's thighs from their shoulders, letting them fall bonelessly to the bed. Lowering themselves to all fours, they crawl upward, hands and legs on either side of Hamid's body, until they're close to his face, tongue flicking in and out a few times before they nuzzle in against Hamid's throat, pressing their head against his jaw, affectionate and gentle compared to the other tortures they've put him through tonight. It's an unusual amount of affection, coming from Skraak, and Hamid unclenches his fists and lifts his hands, sliding them across Skraak's chest and down their sides to their hips and back up again, an absent, thoughtless, grateful exploration of their body that has blood rushing and nerves tingling, tongue flicking in and out and brushing against Hamid's skin. Pressing their head a little harder against Hamid's jaw and cheek, they give Hamid just a little more of that before sitting up and cocking their head, mouth curved into a devious smile, fangs catching the light a little.

"Over. I'll give you what you want."

Hamid lets out a gasping, broken, desperate grateful sound and somehow manages to corral his shaking limbs enough to roll onto his side, uncoordinated from the tension and release of coming so many times and being denied all at the same time. It's good. Shifting to make room, they reach out and help Hamid to turn, supporting some of his weight as he gets onto his belly and exhaustedly bends his knees. Skraak's hand curls under to cup against the softness of his belly and pull his weight up so Hamid can get situated in a comfortable position, his ass in the air, his head tilted forward so Skraak can see the line of tiny spines that trail down the back of his neck. Skraak has never been attracted to someone the way they are when they see that, and they can't control their own response anymore, not enough. It only takes a moment to slide off the pants, unbuckling the strap that keeps them secured over their tail and shimmying them off, kicking them off the bed with a sort of disdain. 

Hamid can hear the cloth hitting the floor and almost immediately he turns, looks behind himself so he can see Skraak naked, their cloaca throbbing slightly with arousal. Eyes locked on Hamid's, they lift a thumb to their mouth and wet it with saliva, then rub it around the edges of their cloaca, sucking in little hisses of pleasure and flicking their tongue a few times. They hold their gaze on Hamid, but watch as his eyes flick down, mesmerized by watching the head of their cock slowly press open the opening of their cloaca, hardening and growing, emerging from their body. They move their hand to their cock then, tracing fingers and claws over the surface of it. It isn't much like Hamid's cock, which has soft skin and visible veins. It's thicker, red like the rest of them, with fleshy ridges along the shaft of it, on the head of it in delicate scaled patterns that ensure it does its task properly. Hamid's eyes are wide and his mouth is open and he's panting, eager for it, desperate, finding the energy to spread his knees a little to present himself better.

Without comment, Skraak shifts and moves between Hamid's calves, leans over him and presses their nose against the softness of the skin at nape of Hamid's neck, enjoying the slight prick of his fledgeling spines, flicking their tongue out to smelltaste him, the tips of it brushing against Hamid's skin. Their hand moves down, taking hold of their cock, achingly hard, throbbing and twitching, the urge to thrust their hips almost overwhelming, and they only pause long enough to slick a bit more oil on it before they guide it to Hamid's entrance, pressing against it. A promise. Abruptly, Hamid breaks out in a desperate flurry of begging, his voice high and slightly broken, without Skraak even needing to request it. Flicking their tongue in and out several times, they taste Hamid's sweat and his breath and his precum and his skin and his scales, a heady mixture that only serves to heighten the sensation of everything else.

And then they push inside.

The head of it enters Hamid slowly, popping inside him, past that relaxed ring of muscle, and then they press their hips forward, slow and careful, feeling every inch of themselves squeezed tight and wet by the impossibly hot inside of Hamid's body. Hamid is making pathetic noises, whimpers and sobs and gasps and broken little cries, and Skraak enjoys each one as they penetrate him, pushing until they're so deep inside him that their pelvis is pressed hard against his ass. For a moment they're still, nose pressed against the back of Hamid's neck, and then they start to move. Slowly at first, they rock their hips, getting a feel for it, for the rhythm that Hamid likes, attuned to the halfling's breathing and movements and sounds and the smelltaste of his pheromones and sweat. It's easy to find it the rhythm and the angle, and they take advantage of all that feedback from their heightened senses, move in just the right way to make Hamid cry out with each thrust, and then they start to fuck in earnest, harder and harder, grinding their hips forward and hitting that spot inside Hamid's body hard, over and over again until the halfling is a quivering mess under them, desperate.

It doesn't take very long for Skraak to feel the pleasure building up to a buzzing crescendo, close to the edge of that wonderful peak, which isn't surprising considering this night has been an extended tease for themselves as much as for Hamid. Lowering their hand, they cup it around the base of Hamid's cock, feeling for that ring, squeezing lightly as Hamid lets out a series of incomprehensible pleas. That's what does it, what pushes them over the edge, winding them up until they can't do anything but _feel_ , and Skraak jerks their hips forward hard, one last time, the shape of their cock ensuring a tight fit. The pleasure is intense, washing through them like fire, they let out a choked little noise, holding still, feeling their cock locked in place and emptying themselves into Hamid with delicious hot spurts, grumbling in their throat at the feeling of it, a low sound that's almost a growl, almost a hiss, animalistic. That's when they flick the little clasp on the ring and loosen it, let it fall to the bed and close their hand around Hamid's cock. Grinding their hips hard against the soft body under them to stimulate both of them as they continue to empty themselves inside, they stroke Hamid's cock quick and fast and hard, and it only takes a few strokes before Hamid is letting out a loud, broken cry, head tilting back, and spilling himself over the back of Skraak's hand.

The timing is good. By the time Skraak is finished, Hamid is going through the final trembling aftershocks of his orgasm, and Skraak withdraws, their cock softening and sliding back behind the entrance of their cloaca, leaving them satisfied and awash with the buzzing serenity of afterglow. They move, then, gentle and careful, guiding the exhausted Hamid to lie down on his side, trembling and weak and utterly vulnerable and perfect, tear tracks on his face and his whole body covered in a light sheen of sweat. Lying down beside him, they gingerly pull Hamid's head against their chest, his hair soft and strange and lovely against their chest. Lifting a hand, Skraak gently presses fingers and claws through that hair, surprised as always at the pleasantness of how it feels between their fingers.

"Mm." A soft noise of contentment, and then Skraak yawns, their jaw opening wide and tongue curling before they settle again, an arm around Hamid's shoulders, "It was good, Hamid."

Hamid's cheeks flush, his large dark eyes lifting to look at Skraak, and he lets out a shaky laugh, "I look like a complete and utter mess." 

Skraak shifts, shrugging their shoulders against the bed, lazily wriggling their tail under the blanket to work it upward until they can reach it with a hand and pull it around the two of them. They don't intend to sleep, but they can already tell that Hamid is about to, and they nuzzle, press their forehead against his hair.

"Good."

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely platoapproved for giving me a beta read, and for her encouragement to actually post this. Also for getting me into this fandom. And this ship.


End file.
